Draco and Harry: Escorts in Exile

Chapter Three

Harry paced in his cell like a caged lion. They had been taken to the lowest level of the Ministry of Magic, where criminals were held awaiting trial. Nothing at all had been said to Harry, other than Draco's continuous, low admonitions of "patience" whenever he sensed Harry about to lose control. They were separated immediately and placed into damp, unpleasant cells.

Harry knew Umbridge planned to let them stew in their cells overnight. Harry hoped to hell she did not plan to make them wait days for word of the trial date. Knowing her, she would be more than happy to force them to sit for months.

Bill Weasley got in to see Harry, carrying a bland plate of food and a paper cup full of tea. He set both on the low wooden table and joined Harry on the cot.

"They won't let me see Draco," Bill said. "It's bad, Harry. What do you know about Maeve O'Leary?"

"Maeve?" Harry burst out. "This is about Maeve?"

"Apparently, Draco used some sort of Dark spell on her," Bill said.

"He said he Obliviated her memory, but I know it had to be something more. She lived to serve his every whim."

Bill scowled at him. "You never bothered to look into it?" he asked incredulously.

Harry had felt guilty, on occasion, when Maeve would appear, but every time Harry had the urge to help her, the image of her standing over Draco with a knife would return.

"She tried to kill Draco," Harry snapped. "Pity for her was not something I could readily dredge up. She tried to fucking sacrifice him!"

"So you should have subdued her and turned her over to the Ministry. You don't make her into a mindless slave!"

"She fed him a bloody love potion to do the same to him!" Harry glared at Bill, daring him to use the "two wrongs don't make a right" argument. Bill sighed.

"I don't know how you two will get out of this one. Umbridge is out for blood."

Harry snorted. "When is she not out for blood? She's barely one level below Voldemort." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "But she likes Draco. He was on her pet Inquisitorial Squad back at Hogwarts."

"I'm not certain past sentiment will help. She needs to appease Bertram Aubrey."

"Bertram Aubrey? Why?"

"He's Brigit's husband."

"Who the hell is Brigit?"

"Maeve's sister. I thought you might have known that, at least. Apparently, Brigit paid a visit to Maeve and discovered her acting... strangely, to put it mildly. They managed to undue whatever spell Draco used on her--prompting his arrest. And yours, for knowing about it and doing nothing."

"Do we have any defense?" Harry asked wryly.

"I don't know. I've contacted Neville Longbottom. He's agreed to work on your defense."

"Neville?" Harry had not seen Neville since... bloody hell, not since the day of Voldemort's defeat. And Ginny's death. Neville had fought beside them. Harry vaguely recalled he had been badly wounded and spent a long stretch in St. Mungo's... Hell, Harry had not even gone to see him.

"He works at Hogwarts during the school year, but in the summer he spends a lot of time defending people from Ministry abuse. Umbridge despises Neville nearly as much as she hates you."

"That's just what I need. Someone that Umbridge hates, defending me."

"Well, there is a shortage of the other kind."

"Hogwarts is still in session, though."

"Well, Neville works with Professor Sprout. Eventually, he'll take over teaching Herbology permanently, but as his assistant, he has plenty of time to work on his hobby--thwarting Umbridge."

Bill stood up. "I'd better not stay. I'm sure Umbridge will come up with some horrid task for Tonks and me tomorrow, as punishment for daring to be seen in your presence."

Harry laughed in amazement. "But Tonks lives with me."

Bill shushed him and peered out of the cell nervously. "No one knows that! If Umbridge kenned for a minute that Tonks lived there, she'd be tossed out of the Aurors on some trumped-up excuse."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "How can she hate me that much? After all these years?"

"Harry, we all know the story of her last day at Hogwarts. The only person she detests more than you is Hermione Granger. Believe me, if she could drag Hermione into this, she would." Bill sighed. "She yet may. We need to be prepared for anything." Bill signaled through the bars to the guard at the end of the hall. "I'm meeting with Neville later this evening. Hopefully, they'll allow him in to see Draco and get the whole story." The guard unlocked the door with a spell and Bill departed.

Harry lay back on the cot and tried not to worry. He had called through the bars several times, but Draco's cell was at the farthest end of the long corridor, out of earshot unless Harry bellowed. Several other prisoners piped up in response to his voice. One was awaiting trial for using the Cruciatus Curse on his neighbor. Another was a convicted smuggler awaiting transport to Azkaban. The man was plainly terrified. Umbridge had cheerfully embraced the use of dementors at the wizard prison--a practice Scrimgeour had largely abolished in the months prior to his mysterious death.

When darkness had fallen and the ward grew silent, Harry found himself pacing in his cell. He paused in front of the door and cast a Silencing Charm before pulling in a small bit of magic and going to work on the lock. It was laced with an Alarm Hex over a magical Locking Spell, which had been placed over the physical lock. It took Harry barely a moment to dispel the alarm and banish the lock, after which a quick Alohomora snapped open the door. It swung open silently and Harry peered down the line of cells. A guard post stood at the far end, but the guard was deeply immersed in a newspaper, held high enough to shield Harry from view.

Harry shut his door and glided down the hall. He had left his shoes in the cell in order to move quietly. Draco's space was at the end and the Slytherin turned his head to regard Harry with a grin. His arms were crossed behind his head on the poor excuse for a pillow. One long leg was propped up.

"You're not supposed to look sexy in prison."

"It's a gift," Draco said with a lazy smile. "Did they let you out?"

"Hardly," Harry replied with a short laugh. After a quick glance down the hall where the guard was still buried in the paper, he spelled Draco's door and entered the cell. "We've got a problem."

Draco gestured imperiously and Harry obediently climbed atop him with a grin. He kissed the lovely lips and then pulled away abruptly. Harry repeated everything Bill had told him about Maeve, Brigit, and Umbridge.

"Neville Longbottom will be defending me? I should simply hang myself with my own shirt," Draco said dryly.

"This is serious. What spell did you use on Maeve?"

Draco's gaze sharpened. "You said Bertram Aubrey reversed the spell?"

Harry nodded.

"That's impossible. It wasn't a spell. It was a potion. They would have had to figure that out and then device the antidote. Without the original potion, it would take months."

"Then how--?"

"They were at the Manor. They found the antidote." The silver eyes glittered with rage. Even Harry felt a sick feeling at the thought of Maeve, crazed Brigit, and Umbridge ransacking Draco's home. He had been working so hard to rebuild it. Harry's heart ached for a moment.

"Sweet Marietta informed me that they've seized the Manor and frozen my assets. Until the trial, of course," Draco said.

Fuck. Last time the Ministry had "seized" Malfoy Manor, they had burned it to the ground. Harry did not want to think about that.

"Your assets?" he asked blandly, instead.

Draco laughed and some of the tension went out of his body.

"My Gringott's assets," he clarified. "A paltry few million. They can't touch my accounts in France, Switzerland, Monaco, or the United States. They've most likely frozen your assets, as well."

"You have money in the U.S.?"

"Potter, if there is one thing the uncouth colonials are good at, it's making money. I have a very greedy account manager in New York. The more money he makes for me, the more he can skim off the top."

Harry shook off the bewildering talk of finances and shady account managers, but he had to acknowledge that the entire war with Voldemort hadn't knocked a dent in the Malfoy fortune. Now he knew why.

"Everything I own is in Gringott's," Harry said, acknowledging that his own funds were now at risk.

"That's not exactly true," Draco commented, but added, "However, you did not come here to discuss money. You came to give me my birthday present, correct?"

"Um... Draco, I--"

His words ended in a mlph sound as Malfoy kissed him hungrily. Harry surrendered to the warm glow of pleasure and lost himself in Draco's kisses for longer than was prudent. He finally pushed away, gasping.

"This is not exactly a brilliant place for this. I did not come to snog you. I came to break you out. We need to leave."

Harry had succeeded in rendering Draco speechless, for one of the few times in his life. And then Draco burst out laughing.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy," Harry hissed. "Someone will hear you."

"Harry Potter, you can't tell me you want us to flee like common criminals? Where would we go?"

"I don't know," Harry snapped. "But we can't win this. You're guilty as hell. You knew what was in that potion and you willfully used it. And I did not try to stop you. I won't see you in Azkaban, not even if I'm there with you."

"Gryffindors," Draco said with a sigh. "Potter, I've been dealing with the Ministry for a long time. After a bit of judicious bribery, we'll be free."

"Not every problem can be solved by throwing money at it," Harry said tightly.

"When it comes to politics, it can. Now stop fretting and go back to your cell, before you get caught in here. Or before I lose all control and shag you right here on this flimsy, wretched excuse for a piece of furnishing."

Harry sighed and gave up, knowing he'd have to knock Malfoy out and Levitate him in order to get him to move. They shared one more brilliant kiss before Harry slid off the Slytherin and moved to the door.

"You don't need your wand at all any more, do you?" Draco asked quietly. Harry flushed, feeling self-conscious for a moment.

"Well, it helps. Makes it easier to focus, but no... not really."

"I'm glad," Draco said and Harry threw him a grateful smile.

"Happy birthday, even though it did not exactly turn out as planned."

"Thanks, gorgeous."

Harry grinned and made his way back to his cell.

Neville Longbottom was tense. He was also quite astonishing to look at and Harry found himself going back over Neville's words due to a distinct inability to concentrate.

Neville's hair was longer than Draco's, and a thin strip of leather crossed his forehead to keep it out of his eyes. A large ruby glinted from one earlobe and his soft, perpetually nervous features had hardened into a confident, strong face. It was as though someone had taken the raw clay that had once been Neville Longbottom and sculpted it into this masterpiece. He reminded Harry somewhat of Bill Weasley. Including the worry currently tightening the edges of his mouth.

"This is serious, Harry. It's going to be difficult to come up with a decent defense." The voice was still the same, soothing and low, though a bit deeper than Harry remembered.

"Maeve tried to sacrifice him on an altar, Neville," Harry snapped.

"It's immaterial to the case." Before Harry could protest, he went on. "The charges against Malfoy are tough to counter. Possession of Dark Items--"

"That was his father's stuff!"

"His father has been dead for years, Harry. Why did Draco not dispose of it? Not only did he not dispose of it, he administered it with full knowledge of what it was."

"She followed us all the way from Ireland. She broke into Draco's bloody house and waited for him with a love potion--which she poured down his throat, by the way--"

"Why didn't he fall in love with her, then?"

"He--" Harry floundered for a moment. "She did not attune it, and Ron Stunned her, and Draco... fell in love with someone else."

"Who?"

"Well... erm... me. Frankly, he was under the influence of the damned love potion at the time, so isn't it possible he wasn't thinking clearly? Couldn't he have been trying to protect me, or something?"

Neville looked thoughtful. "You might have something there, Harry. Why don't you tell me the whole story, from the beginning?"

An Auror unknown to Harry escorted him to Courtroom 10. He instantly felt a cloying sensation of revulsion. His memories of the place were unpleasant, to say the least.

Draco was already seated and shackled, Harry noted with a flash of anger. Even so, Malfoy managed a relaxed, slouching pose, and a sardonic smirk adorned his lips, making him look as though he had asked to be chained to the chair.

The grey eyes flicked to him and Harry felt his lips twitch in response. Hell, only Malfoy could make being tried for a crime look easy. A touch on his arm guided Harry to a seat at the edge of the gallery. His hands were magically bound in front of him. A large group of wizards and witches filed in, but it was a far smaller bunch than the fifty or so that had been present for Harry's hearing, so long ago. He had heard rumors that the Wizengamot had decreased in number since the war. Apparently the rumors had been true. Kingsley Shacklebolt was a newer member--he nodded to Harry, but made no other sign of recognition. Harry vowed to have him over for tea. He hadn't seen many of the Aurors since the war, except for Tonks, of course. Percy Weasley strode in, wearing his usual superior attitude and walking next to his longtime girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater. She had allegedly refused his wedding proposals several times, but he had yet to give up on her.

Several observers were already present. Lupin, Ron, and Hermione, of course, were seated next to Bill and Fleur. Luna Lovegood and the Weasley twins sat behind them. Harry recognized several more Aurors: the Patil sisters, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot were present, along with with Dawlish and Diggle.

Harry's eyes went to Maeve the instant she walked in. The red-haired witch took a seat to the right of the central chair and was quickly joined by the dark-haired witch who had threatened Draco at number 12, Grimmauld Place--Brigit, apparently. Harry felt a sudden pang of guilt. It was no wonder Brigit was angry, if she had discovered her sister acting like an abject slave to Draco Malfoy. Then again, Maeve had tried to kill Draco merely for being related to Lucius.

Umbridge was the last to waddle in, looking even more toadlike and loathsome beneath robes of vile pink. Bizarrely, they were adorned with sparkles. Next to her sat someone Harry recognized, though it took him a bit to recall her name. Marietta Edgecombe. The same girl that had snitched on Dumbledore's Army. It seemed she had found tattling to be more lucrative as an adult, now that she was working directly for the Minister.

Umbridge had her gaze firmly fixed on Harry. Marietta began to speak.

"We shall now commence the trial of Draco Lucius Malfoy, who has been accused of offences committed under the Statute of Illegal Items, the Decree for Improper Use of Magic, Ordinance Seven Hundred Sixty-One regarding the illegal use of..." Marietta's voice droned on and Harry found his mind wandering. He avoided Umbridge's gaze and studied the Wizengamot. He recognized very few members--the dumpy wizard with the thick mustache, and the ancient wizard--bloody hell, he looked about to drop dead from old age at any moment...

Harry snapped back to attention when Marietta got to: "Interrogators, Dolores Jane Umbridge, Minister of Magic; Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Percy Ignatius Weasley, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Court Scribe, Marietta Louise Edgecombe... Witness for the defense, Harry James Potter; and Representative for the defense, Neville William Longbottom."

"The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did deliberately, knowingly, and with full cognizance of the illegality of his actions, administer a dangerous, unapproved, and illegal magical substance to Maeve Anna O'Leary on 11^th October, 2003, which constitutes an offense under paragraph..."

Harry dozed off again and entertained himself by admiring Draco. Neville had been allowed to bring them both a change of clothing, and Draco had apparently given Neville written instructions. Malfoy looked impeccable in a pristine white shirt that buttoned high on his throat, and expensive-looking trousers of charcoal grey. His hair had been drawn back in a silver clasp, but for two long strands on either side of his face that softened the look. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He wore his ever-present black boots, of course. Draco looked relaxed and... completely bored.

"You are Draco Lucius Malfoy?" Umbridge asked.

"Yes." Draco's tone was casual.

"Do you reside at number 1, Malfoy Lane, Wiltshire?"

"Occasionally," Draco replied, and Harry nearly smiled. Draco had not even set foot in the Manor for six months, and prior to that had spent more time living with Harry at number 12, Grimmauld Place than he had in Wiltshire.

"Have you heard the charges?"

"I have."

"And how do you plead?"

"Not guilty."

Maeve leaped to her feet, dispelling the notion that this might be a sedate affair.

"Not guilty! You bloody bastard! I've been your ruddy slave for--!" Brigit dragged her sister back into the seat while Umbridge made that annoying, "Hem hem" sound that instantly set Harry's teeth on edge.

"In your turn, Maeve, dear," she said pleasantly, though a wolfish smile twisted her wide lips as she looked at Harry. "Brigit, as you were the one that discovered these malicious doings--"

"Alleged malicious doings, Minister," Neville corrected in a loud voice from his stance near Draco's chair.

"Hem hem. Alleged malicious doings," Umbridge allowed, though she shot a single, venomous glare at Neville. "You may describe the situation in your own words."

Brigit stood up. "I went to visit my sister, Maeve, in Ireland. It had been months since I had seen her and I was getting worried. She had not even come to visit us at Christmas, stating she was too busy. She returned owls, but her notes sounded distant... not herself. I wondered what the problem was. Maeve kept saying nothing was wrong, but I had a feeling... I finally had to check for myself."

Brigit put her hands on her hips. It would not help Draco's case that Brigit was a beautiful woman and had a fine speaking voice. A voice that carried with the force of her indignation.

"I could not believe my eyes! My own sister was trying to learn Greek--Greek!--in order to translate some bloody scroll for Draco Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater!"

"Strike that from the record!" Neville yelled. "It is irrelevant to the case!"

"Hem hem. It is, of course, public knowledge. And it may become relevant later," Umbridge said smugly. "Sustained."

Neville shrugged and Harry sighed heavily.

"Maeve would not come away with me, even to seek help. She was completely obsessed with finishing her bloody task for Malfoy. I knew she was under some sort of spell."

Brigit paused dramatically and put a hand to her brow, as if too traumatized to continue. Harry wondered if she held a job, because a career on the stage would suit her well.

"I had to Stun my own sister and bring her to the Ministry. I knew Bertram would help me." She smiled winningly at her husband, who nodded. "Bertram determined it was a potion, by the effects. We took Maeve to see the Minister immediately, after which Malfoy's house was searched and the antidote discovered--"

"Proving that it was, indeed, a potion," Umbridge growled, "and that it originated at Malfoy Manor."

"None of which proves that Draco Malfoy administered the potion," Neville said dryly.

Brigit snarled. "I suppose you think she drank it herself?"

Umbridge held up a hand, but Neville replied, "She may well have done."

Before Brigit could say anything more, Umbridge hem hemmed loudly.

"Thank you, Brigit. Maeve, can you tell us what you remember of those events?"

Brigit sat down as Maeve stood. Unlike Umbridge, her eyes were fixed steadily on Draco.

"Well, you could say it began when Draco Malfoy appeared on my doorstep, for reasons unknown. I can only assume he was after something, considering who his father was--"

"Speculation and opinion," Neville said in a tone so reminiscent of Draco that even Malfoy looked at him in surprise. Umbridge's mouth thinned into a flat line.

"Strike the last bit from the record. Please stay with the facts, Maeve, dear."

"Well, I invited him in, of course, and the next thing I knew I was waking up outside Blarney Castle with no memory of how I got there."

"You remember that he appeared on your doorstep, but you forgot you tried to kill him by cutting out his heart with a sacrificial dagger?" Harry snapped.

"Mr. Potter!" Umbridge snarled. "You may not speak until requested to do so. Remove Mr. Potter's comments from the record."

Harry scowled, but Neville's face was impassive.

"As I was saying," Maeve continued, "I went home with no memory of Draco Malfoy, until I found the Portkey he had left behind."

"Along with his clothes," Harry added dryly. Umbridge hissed like an angry snake, but Maeve went on before the Minister could threaten Harry.

"I knew something was wrong, and that someone had been in my house. I used my own Portkey to visit Bertram at the Ministry, where he discovered my memory had been tampered with."

"And also that the Portkey used by Malfoy had been stolen from the Ministry," Umbridge added scornfully.

"Can you produce this Portkey?" Neville asked before Harry could speak.

"Of course," Umbridge said coldly.

"And can you prove it belonged to Draco Malfoy, or that it was even in his possession at any given time?"

The Minister's face turned an unlovely shade of puce.

"I thought not." Neville looked at Marietta. "Let the record show that the matter of the Portkey is, at this point, purely conjecture."

Harry thought Neville had turned out to be rather brilliant.

Maeve went on. "Once my memory was restored, I went to Malfoy Manor to demand answers."

Neville interrupted. "You knew where Malfoy Manor was located, then?"

"Yes."

"Indeed," Neville said. "In fact, you have been reprimanded by the Ministry on several occasions for trespassing on Malfoy lands without authorization, is that correct?"

Maeve flushed. "That was a long time ago!"

"When you were, shall we say... fixated... on Lucius Malfoy?"

Maeve reacted as if slapped. Umbridge snarled, "Are you casting a slur on the victim's name, Mr. Longbottom? Your questions seem irrelevant."

"We are trying to establish exactly who the victim is here, Minister. I am simply pointing out that Miss O'Leary's behavior in regards to the Malfoys has been... erratic, to say the least."

"I fail to see the significance," Umbridge insisted dangerously.

Neville shrugged. "Miss O'Leary's transgressions are a matter of public record. If you think they have no bearing on this case, then by all means, strike them from these proceedings."

For a moment, Harry thought Umbridge might pick up her wand and hex Neville, but she regained control with some effort.

"I'm certain they have no bearing whatsoever, but I will allow them," Umbridge simpered. Harry was absolutely stunned at Neville's ability to manipulate the horrid creature. If Neville thwarted Umbridge like this often, his life could very well be in danger.

"When you went to Malfoy Manor, did you go inside?" Neville asked Maeve suddenly.

"Yes," Maeve replied, taken aback.

"Uninvited? Does that not constitute trespassing?"

Harry could have cheered. Both Maeve and Umbridge were visibly livid.

"The door was open!" Maeve snarled.

"So, of course, you went right in."

"I was looking for Malfoy. It's a bloody mansion. I thought he might not have heard me knock."

"And when you discovered he was not at home, you decided to wait."

"Mr. Longbottom, you will allow Miss O'Leary to tell the tale in her own words."

Neville gestured magnanimously. "By all means. Do continue." His tone was mild, but implied that Maeve would be somewhat less that truthful.

"I assumed Malfoy would arrive shortly. The place seemed to be under repair, but there were signs of recent occupation."

"Such as?" Neville prodded.

"Excuse me?"

"You said there were signs of recent occupation. Details the signs, please."

Maeve flushed, likely realizing she had just admitted to snooping through Malfoy Manor.

"Well, the larder, for one. It was well stocked," Maeve said lamely. Harry sneered, knowing she dared not mention she had been wandering through Draco's bedroom.

"Just to clarify," Neville said, "You were searching the house for Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes." Maeve glared.

"And you thought he might be lurking in the larder?"

Harry suppressed a snort of laughter, but several observers and even one member of the Wizengamot did not. Umbridge leaped to her feet.

"She has already stated that she searched the premises!"

"Very thoroughly, apparently," Neville agreed seriously. Another chuckle sounded from the gallery.

Umbridge visibly searched for a trap beneath his words and finally snarled, "Do not badger the witness."

"Certainly not."

Umbridge sat down, but Harry thought Neville had made his point, especially as several members of the court were whispering amongst themselves.

"What happened next, Maeve?" Umbridge asked. The simpering tone was gone.

"Well, Malfoy did arrive, as I'd expected. I was on the stairs when he came in. He immediately went for his wand, so I acted defensively and hit him with a Stunner. I only meant to question him."

She glared at Neville, obviously waiting for the inevitable questions, but he said nothing. Her expression grew wary and Harry wondered how she planned to weasel out of the next portion of the story.

"I wanted answers," Maeve explained. "I knew as soon as I released him, he would try to hex me, so I gave him a Binding Potion to keep him still while I questioned him." Harry nearly spoke, but Neville's silence forced him to remain quiet. Longbottom must have had a reason for not speaking up. Maeve went on, although she also seemed surprised at the lack of interruption. "I must have taken the wrong potion from my robes by mistake, because he came in and attacked me." She pointed at Harry, who gaped at her. The lying bitch! Harry hadn't even seen her before she had hexed him unconscious.

"I started to give the potion to Malfoy, but the next thing I remember... well, I remember it all now, of course, but for months I had no memory except what Malfoy had given me. Someone hexed me unconscious and when I awakened, Draco Malfoy forced an Obedience Potion down my throat."

"Exactly as you had done to him minutes before?" Neville asked mildly.

Maeve's eyes flashed. "It's not the same at all!"

"Really? According to my notes, a Love Potion and an Obedience Potion are quite similar. The base ingredients are the same, as are the effects--bending the will of another."

"I did not mean to give Malfoy a Love Potion!"

"Well, we only have your word for that, don't we?" Neville asked.

Maeve hissed angrily, but Umbridge said, "Don't let him upset you, dear. Please continue."

"The Obedience Potion caused me to obey Malfoy's every whim."

"What did he command you to do?" Neville asked.

"First Malfoy ordered me to obey his commands as his own," she said, pointing to Harry.

"Let the record show that Miss O'Leary is indicating Harry Potter," Umbridge said loudly. Harry scowled.

"And then?" Neville prodded.

"He forced me to copy all of my spell books and scrolls--every spell I owned. It took me months!"

"He made you copy scrolls?"

Maeve, eyes narrowing, replied, "Yes."

"Nothing sinister or Dark? He simply told you to go home and make copies."?

Maeve's lips twisted. "Isn't that sinister enough?"

Neville nodded with a half smile and said condescendingly, "Of course it is."

Harry sneaked a glance at Draco, whose face was impassive. Malfoy had always been a complete git to Neville. Harry thought that might undergo a change in the future.

"Did Draco Malfoy order you to do anything else?" Neville asked in a tone that suggested he was getting bored with the line of questioning.

"Not until recently. He ordered me to learn Greek and translate a scroll from Ancient Runic," Maeve admitted. "Malfoy was gone for months, but Potter had a jolly time ordering me about in his absence."

Harry mimicked Draco, schooling his features into a blank mask.

"What did Potter order you to do, Maeve?" Umbridge asked in a silken tone. Harry knew she would love to hear that he had ordered Maeve to yank the heads from small animals and slice open a vein to assist Harry with some Dark Magic rituals. Maeve happily rattled off the list of menial tasks Harry had assigned to Maeve to keep her from driving him insane asking for instructions. The most incriminating was the floor waxing, but Draco had spent so much effort putting those floors in that Harry had wanted them to look nice when Malfoy finally returned home. Even though Harry had been quite angry with him, at the time.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Potter?" Umbridge asked, dragging Harry out of his reverie. He raised a brow.

"I prefer not to comment at this time," he said mildly, not needing any cues from Neville to know he'd best keep quiet. Umbridge glared, and her face twisted into an odd combination of smugness and disappointment.

"Did you or did you not give such instruction to Miss O'Leary?" she asked.

"Yes, I did," Harry said simply.

"Then you fully admit that you knew about the Obedience Potion?"

"No. I had no knowledge of any potion."

The toadlike lips thinned again. "You thought her behavior was normal?"

"How would I know what was normal behavior for Maeve? She would drop by on occasion and ask for something to do. She wouldn't bloody leave me alone until I suggested something."

"You claim to have had no idea that Draco Malfoy tampered with Miss O'Leary's memory and forcibly administered an illegal potion?"

Damn. Of course he'd had some idea, especially about the memory tampering, because Draco had admitted to it.

"As I said before, I had no knowledge of any potion, except the one Miss O'Leary forcibly administered to Draco Malfoy!" He delivered the comment with an edge, hoping Umbridge would seize on his tone, rather than the words. It seemed to work.

"Do not think that your celebrity status will exempt you from justice, Mr. Potter," she said grimly. "If I deem it necessary, we can certainly utilize Veritaserum in order to reach the truth."

"Despite which, my answer would remain the same," Harry said flatly. He and Umbridge glared at each other as though they were the only two people in the room. Harry wished they were--he would love to have a go at the wretched creature, wand to wand. A few choice hexes sprang to mind immediately.

"We shall see," Umbridge said with a hmph. Harry was surprised she had not already dragged out the Veritaserum and forced it down their throats. It was likely she merely waited for an opportune moment.

"Very well, Maeve, you may sit down while we listen to Mr. Malfoy's explanation of these events," Umbridge said.